


Learning Curve

by nerddowell



Series: 'Master' AU side chapters & one shots [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bondage, Breathplay, Choking, Frottage, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Multi, Sex Club, Spanking, Sub Anakin, rectifying this injustice one pornshot at a time, the visit to a kink club that sparked this whole universe, there are not enough sub anakin fics out there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 04:30:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5854306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerddowell/pseuds/nerddowell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An anon on Tumblr requested: <b>Would you mind writing Padme in your college professor/student Obikin AU gentle-domming Ani? Maybe she's aro in this verse but they're in a queerplatonic relationship & go to each other for casual sex (when Obi-Wan's not fucking the life out of Ani)</b>. Here is the beginning of that!</p><p>
  <i>Anakin had known since before he left school that he wasn't exactly normal in what he enjoyed doing during sex. Actually realising this had been wholly unintentional - a girlfriend who went a little too far whilst fooling around, and didn't expect him to react quite the way that he had done - but it was nevertheless valuable knowledge that was at least worth having for the future. He'd never expected to act on it again.</i>
</p><p>Purely self-indulgent, less filthy than last time porn written because a) there is not enough dom/sub anything including Anakin out there and b) <a href="http://katekenobi.tumblr.com">katekenobi</a> is a shameless enabler. God bless her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning Curve

**Author's Note:**

> This is the absolute beginning/oneshot offshoot/prequel to 'Master', an explanation of the whole Anakin/Padme backstory and of how Anakin learned that he likes some of the things he likes!

Anakin had known since before he left school that he wasn't exactly normal in what he enjoyed doing during sex. Actually realising this had been wholly unintentional - a girlfriend who went a little too far whilst fooling around, and didn't expect him to react quite the way that he had done - but it was nevertheless valuable knowledge that was at least worth having for the future. He'd never expected to act on it again.  
  


* * *

  
"Please," he begged, hands squeezing her hips gently as she arched her spine and sunk down on him again, "please, just... just put it around my throat."

"Anakin..." Padmé's dark eyes were wide and cautious, and she drew to a halt, settled in his lap with his cock still inside her and his own gaze blue and pleading on hers. She squeezed his shoulder gently and he hissed, hope sparking in his face as he nodded.

"Around my throat."

"Anakin, I'm not comfortable doing that," she told him as gently as she could manage, "I might hurt you."

"You won't," he promised immediately. "I swear, you won't hurt me at all."

"You won't be able to breathe."

"That's the point," he muttered, under his breath, and then plastered a fake smile on and rolled his hips. She whimpered and ground back against him, and he bit his lip harshly against the roll of lust and disappointment flooding through him.

"Never mind," he told her. "I won't ask again."  
  


* * *

  
They lay back against the pillows, still lightly sheened in sweat and with flushed cheeks and chests, Padmé's head on his shoulder. She was drawing patterns on his chest idly with one fingertip when she paused and glanced up at him curiously.

"Why did you want me to do that?"

"I like it," he shrugged, not knowing how else to explain. It was like being asked why the sky was blue, or why he'd grown to almost six feet tall at the tender age of seventeen. It just was; he just had. That's the way things were. "I have done since the first time I did it."

"When was that?"

"I was fifteen," Anakin said, staring at the ceiling, "and my girlfriend was riding me, both of us still in our school uniforms. I was at the boys' school, and she was at our sister school a couple of blocks away. We both had to wear ties, and she had hold of it whilst she was on me, and I guess she was kind of... showing me what she wanted. She'd yank on it, and it just got tighter and tighter until I was struggling to breathe, and it just... got me off. Real quick, actually, and she wasn't too happy about that because we weren't using a rubber and I didn't exactly give her much warning." He grinned ruefully, and Padmé snickered.

"Your stamina's improved."

"I don't think it would've done, not by much, if you'd choked me." He looked back down at her and stroked his fingers over her damp hair, kissing her forehead. "I never got the call about scans or paternity lawsuits, though, so I guess we were okay."

"Such a gentleman," Padmé teased, rolling her eyes. She hesitated for a second, and then kissed his jaw. "Are you mad that I didn't do it for you?"

"I was a little disappointed," he said truthfully. "But I wouldn't force you to do anything. I wouldn't ever want to hurt you either."

"That's unusually mature of you," she grinned, but her eyes were light with amusement. He laughed and rolled them over, digging his fingers gently into her sides and tickling her until she squealed, begging for mercy.  
  


* * *

  
It weighed heavily on her mind, however, for a long time. He was as good as his word - he never asked again - but there was a sense of hopeful anticipation that maybe she might anyway, and she felt guilty to disappoint him every time. She knew it made no sense for her to be so afraid of hurting him - she was half his size, and her daily exercise consisted mostly of lugging books to and from the library, so it wasn't like she would be able to do him much damage - but she was afraid that she didn't know how to do it properly, and he would hurt himself trying to show her.

Eventually she made up her mind. Evidently the best thing for it would be to go somewhere where she would be able to observe others who knew exactly what to do with him doing what he wanted. She learned best from observation, after all, and had to admit that some of the Wikipedia pages her original search had linked her to had made her feel a little bit sick. She didn't understand, but she could at least try to, if it would make him happy. And she couldn't deny that she was curious.

Padmé brought her idea up over a shared pizza one night, Anakin curled protectively around her on the couch and his mouth stuffed with pizza, a fleck of cheese on his chin that made her smile fondly. She smoothed it away when he was still half-choking on his mouthful, eyes wide with shock, and waited for him to get his breath back before raising her eyebrows expectantly.

"Why...?"

"Because I want to know how, if I'm going to do it with you. I bet there's a hundred other things you've not been brave enough to ask for - it's not a criticism, Anakin," she soothed, as his face took on a wounded expression, "and I want to make you happy."

"I don't need you to do these things to make me happy," he insisted, but he was visibly trying to tamp down on his excitement. She rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Anakin, it's nothing to be ashamed of, if that's the problem. It's a little choking. If it was - I don't know, bestiality or necrophilia or something - exactly!" she laughed, pointing at his revolted expression, "Then I would worry. But as long  as I'm not hurting you, or not any more than you're asking me to anyway, then there's nothing wrong with it. But I just need to get comfortable with the idea first, so I'd rather watch someone else do it to you so I can learn."

"You'll be in the room though, right? You're not just going to leave me with someone we've never met before and hope for the best?"

"If you want me there," she promised, "I'll be there."

He squeezed her hand and stared at the floor, pondering. A blush rose in his cheeks as he gave a stiff, minute nod and grabbed another slice of pizza, taking an enormous mouthful as though trying to keep himself quiet.

"Why don't you just inhale the whole thing?" she groaned, rubbing a hand over her face in exasperation, "It's not like you're not trying hard enough already."

Anakin just chewed, swallowed, and beamed mischievously at her.  
  


* * *

  
They had to travel into the city to find a club that would cater to what they wanted, and Anakin was itching with nerves (and excitement, though he wouldn't admit to the last part). Padmé was equally nervous, although more so for him than for herself. She did worry that he would ask for something here that she would never be able to do, something that would cause deliberate pain or injury - he never knew his own limits - but she would have to trust him. He was clutching at her hand like a child on their first day of school as they stepped through the door, looking ready to bolt at any moment.

"Calm down. It's alright."

"I don't need to calm down. I'm fine."

"That stopped being convincing about half an hour ago, Anakin, when I told you we were leaving." She raised one eyebrow at him before turning to the clerk at the desk. She was a tiny, nondescript woman in a black uniform with a raspy voice, who handed them a set of rules each and a document on a clipboard to sign before stamping their hands. Anakin sat in one of the leather chairs for several minutes, reading through the list and the document, before panicking at having to sign his name and putting the clipboard down.

"I can't," he pleaded. Padmé looked at him for a long moment, brows knitted, and asked, "Can't because you don't want to? You want to go home? Or can't because you're nervous and need to be worked into it?"

He fidgeted with the cuff of his hoodie, biting his lip. "A bit of both, I guess."

"We don't have to do it today, Ani."

"No, I do want to, I just... I'm not sure how I feel about doing it... here. It's so dark, so..." He floundered for the right words, but she nodded.

"Do you want to go?"

He took several seconds to reply, glancing around the dingy room and picking at the cracked leather of the chair he was in before he finally took a deep breath and shook his head.  
"No."

Anakin picked up his pen and signed his name, hand shaking slightly, before passing it back to the clerk behind the desk. She ran him through the additional rules - no alcohol allowed, you may watch but not interrupt a scene, nudity is permitted (he blushed bright red, and she cracked a small, amused smile, voice gentling) but no sex, and no touching unless given permission. He related these to Padmé as well as she approached to hand her own sheets in, and the clerk ushered them through the doors into a brightly-lit corridor with several doors branching off on either side.

Anakin couldn't contain his curiosity, and peeked through the glass plates of every door available as they passed, eyes widening at the array of furniture and equipment inside. Padmé noticed he seemed especially keen to visit the room with the selection of rope and cable ties, the saltire cross and a padded bench she assumed must be used for spanking or similar. That room had a vast wall display of dangling implements, floggers and crops and whips and all manner of things that made Anakin's eyes light up, and made her shrink away warily. He sensed it, of course, and turned to her with a concerned expression, offering for them to go home.

"No." She shook her head. "If you can muster up the courage to stay, so will I. It's not me who's going to be feeling those, after all."

"You should try it," he grinned, eyes sparkling, "you'd be surprised how easy it is to like it."

She gave him a small smile and suggested that they head back to that room to see if they could find someone to play with them. Anakin pushed open the door and stepped carefully inside to find a man in his shirtsleeves and a loosened tie cleaning the bench down carefully with wipes and spray. He nodded for Padmé to speak, overcome with a sudden shyness, and she rolled her eyes affectionately before clearing her throat.

"Hi?"

"Hello." The man straightened up, offering them a friendly smile. "I'm just clearing up here, I'll be out of your way in just a sec-"

"Actually," Padmé said, glancing around the room and at Anakin before coming back to the man, "we were hoping you might be able to... help us out?"

He nodded, expression open and professional. "Sure. What can I help you guys with?"

"It's -"

"I asked her to choke me the last time we had sex," Anakin blurted out, cheeks colouring rapidly, "and she's a little nervous about it. I - we - were hoping you'd be able to show her how it's done so we can, um, do it ourselves."

"Hey, it's okay," the guy smiled, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. "I can definitely help you there. Anything else you were wanting to try?"

Anakin glanced shyly at Padmé, who raised her eyebrows. "Are you really going shy now?"

"It takes courage to admit these things," their instructor told her, gentle but firm, and she flushed, embarrassed. Of course it did. She'd seen herself how nervous Anakin had been to discuss even coming here in the first place, and how he'd looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him alive when she brought up the choking that time in bed. He didn't seem mad now, though; instead he was reaching for her hand and squeezing gently, taking deep breaths, apparently more for his own comfort than hers.

"Um... getting - t-tied up?" he asked hopefully. "And..." His cheeks reddened violently until Padmé could practically feel the heat radiating off them, "S-spanking. Maybe."

"I can do all of those for you, buddy." He turned to Padmé, tone considerate. "Are you wanting to stay in and watch first, or shall I teach you as we go?"

"It's up to him," Padmé responded, nodding at Anakin. Anakin bit his lip, indecisive, but didn't let go of her hand.

"Stay," he begged, and she smiled, running her hand over his ruffled hair gently.

"Of course, Ani."

"Okay. Ground rules, folks? You need a safeword, or we can just use the traffic light system, whatever you would prefer?"

"Is that like, red-stop, green-go?"

"And amber, for 'take it steady, I'm reaching my limit'." The instructor answered, unclipping the restraints from the spanking bench briefly.

"Okay. We can use those, right, Padmé?"

"Yes."

"Next up, I need specifics. What do you want me to tie you up with, and to what? What am I not allowed to use? What can or can't I spank you with?"

"I don't know," Anakin mumbled anxiously, glancing at Padmé for reassurance again. "I've not tried it before. I think I'm okay with rope, maybe cable ties... just not anything with hemp in because I'm allergic. And spanking... hit me with whatever you want. I don't care, I don't mind."

"I don't really work on an 'anything goes' basis. It's too dangerous, people often end up going too far. Give me definites, if you can. Paddles? Crops? Canes? Bare hand?"

"Um..." Anakin crossed over to the display of the implements and took his time examining each of them, taking care not to touch as he had been instructed at the front desk. The paddle studded with nails made him flinch at first, but he was curious about the sensation of needle-point pain from the spikes amongst the wide, flat sting of the paddle head... The crops all looked fine, nothing unexpected about them, and there was a lovely springy-looking one that he couldn't wait to try out. He pointed at it hopefully. "That one? Please?"

The instructor grinned. "Sure, it's up to you, Anakin - may I call you that? Is there any way you want me to address you? Do you want to be humiliated along with your spanking?"

"No," Padmé cut in, voice edged with protectiveness, "you're not going to stand there beating him and calling him god-knows-what-"

"Padmé," Anakin said firmly, "it's my decision." He looked at the instructor. "Right?"

"Well, when it's just you and me doing it, yes. If you want your partner to have a turn too, then you'll have to agree between yourselves what you want or don't want. I won't interrupt unless you give me permission or unless there's a real safety issue."

"I don't want to be humiliated," Anakin told him. "Can you... is it okay if you... do the opposite? Like... tell me if I'm being good?"

"I can do pretty much whatever you ask me for," the instructor reassured him gently. "Plenty of people come in here asking to be treated like dirt, and I do it for them. But a lot of people also come in asking me to tell them what a good boy or girl they are whilst they're taking their beating, and I'm fine doing that, too. There's nothing you could ask me to do that would shock me anymore. Believe me."

Anakin nodded, wringing his hands self-consciously. "Can we... get started then?"

"Only one thing left. Do you want to get naked, topless, bottomless, stay dressed....?"

"Oh! Uh... is it okay if I just take my top off at first, and then... maybe more later if we get to, uh, other stuff?"

"That's fine."  
  


* * *

  
Anakin was currently bent over the spanking bench, wrists and ankles restrained in padded cuffs that kept his legs ever so slightly spread and his arse slightly raised, cheek flush against the bench cushion. The instructor was making him wait, flexing the crop gently; Anakin whimpered, flexing his hips to try and provoke the instructor into action. It worked; the crop whistled through the air and lay a stinging hit right across his buttocks with a crack that made Padmé wince and Anakin yell.

"Ah, ah, ah - count for me. You'll get ten, and then if you're good and she feels ready, we'll pass you over to your partner over there. Alright, Anakin?"

"Yeah," Anakin whined, the sting rapidly dulling to a slight ache. He called out the count - "One." - and bit his lip as three more landed, in quick succession, over the backs of his thighs, leaving red marks in the pale flesh. Padmé forced herself to tear her eyes away from Anakin's face, eyes closed in bliss and biting his lip hard, to watch how the instructor judged the position and checked the strength of each hit before laying them down; Anakin continued to count, almost sobbing by the time he reached ten, pale thighs bright red. Padmé was glad they had left his underwear pulled up; she dreaded to think what a state his arse must be in beneath the thin cotton.

"Are you ready, Anakin? You've been so good for me, counting just like I asked." The instructor ran his hand gently through Anakin's hair before laying feather-light touches over the burning skin of his thighs, making the boy squirm and whimper on the bench. "Do you want Padmé to try, too?"

"Yes, please," he whined, blinking his eyes open to gaze beseechingly at her. His eyes were watery with tears and his lip ragged and bitten from how hard he had been biting it, which made her nervous. He'd been made almost to cry - if it hurt so much, why had he not stopped? But he likes it, she reasoned with herself. Not all tears are bad tears.

"Alright, Anakin, I'm coming," she said gently, crossing the room to stand by the instructor. He passed her the crop and took her hand carefully to show her how to swing. He let her have a few practise swings on another bench, telling her where to aim, and once he was satisfied he sent her back to Anakin, who was whimpering eagerly and watching her with wide, wet blue eyes as she approached.

"Ready?"

"Born ready," he replied, and she rolled her eyes before swinging and laying a tentative hit across the swell of his right buttock. He made a quiet noise and pushed his hips up again, mumbling into the leather of the bench. "H'drrr."

"Sorry?"

"Harder," he breathed, and she hit him again, putting more force behind it until he yelped and gave a twitch. "Do you want me to count?"

"Yes. Five more." Padmé marvelled at the contrast of the reddened marks against the whey-pale skin of his thighs, cocking her head pensively. "Can I take your boxers down?"

" _Yes_ ," he groaned, wriggling his hips, and she laughed in surprise as she dragged them down, hissing softly at the sight of his reddened arse.

"This is going to hurt more, you know that, don't you? No protective layers." She toyed with the crop, trailing it over his back, and he whined, nodding.

"I know, I know, please-"

She swung the crop and landed it squarely over one of the brightest marks. Anakin gave a yelp like a whelping puppy and squirmed against the bench, fighting the urge to grind his hips against the leather surface. The instructor checked in with him briefly - "Doing okay, Anakin?" - before Padmé laid another one on him, speaking in a forceful voice he had rarely heard from her before:  
"I said count, Anakin!"

"S-sorry," he panted, "that's - two. Two, Padmé."

"Good boy," she told him, and he stifled a grin into the leather of the bench. He took the next three with equal grace, obediently calling out the numbers, and by the time she had finished, his arse was flaming red all over and he couldn't stop himself grinding his hips into the bench, body shuddering. He was panting as he glanced up at the instructor, pleading with him. "Please... please..."

"Please what, Anakin? You have to ask me for what you want. Be a good boy and use your words."

"Please... my throat..."

"I can't reach there. I'll have to untie you."

Anakin whimpered, shaking his head, and the instructor smiled. "I can't give you what you want from that angle. But I can tie you up on the cross over there instead, and we can try it there?"

Anakin pondered this for a second before nodding eagerly, and the instructor carefully unbuckled the restraints from around his wrists and ankles to lead him to the saltire cross on the opposite wall. There Anakin was shackled with the same leather cuffs, hands above his head either side of one loop and ankles to either leg of the 'X'; Padmé had to admit, it made an arousing sight, with him spread and accessible like that - she crossed her legs in her seat, pressing her thighs together, and felt a faint blush rise in her cheeks at Anakin's smirk. The instructor grinned.

"That's a good sign."

Anakin laughed and then winced as he tensed, pressing his tender arse against the unforgiving metal frame of the cross. His jeans - painfully tight at the best of times - were bulging at the crotch, and he kept trying to arch and rub himself against something, anything, to get a little friction where he needed it most. The instructor cocked his head, considering.  
"Do you want me to do anything about that? Or Padmé maybe if she's comfortable? Or shall I just teach her how to use breathplay first?"

Anakin nodded fervently. "The last one. Please, please, Padmé-"

She agreed warily, stepping up to face him with trepidation on her face. He was so vulnerable like this, unable to do anything to stop her if he couldn't handle it - he wouldn't even be able to speak properly. She voiced these concerns to the instructor, who looked to Anakin to sort them out.

"What's the safeword for this? What you could do is knock-" he demonstrated by gently taking hold of one of Anakin's fists and tapping the knuckles against the metal three times - "or else we need to think of some other sign you can give."

"Knocking is fine, I can do that."

"Okay." The instructor stepped behind Padmé and gently guided her hand up to settle over Anakin's throat, butterfly-light at first whilst he adjusted the positions of her fingers. "The 'L-corner' of your hand in the hollow here - yeah, so the palm is over his Adam's apple. Fingers under the corners of his jaw if you can reach - no, here," and he moved her thumb to nestle in the smooth, fleshy underneath of Anakin's jaw, her fingers matching on the other side. "This way you won't cut off too much blood flow to his brain, and you'll be able to control the airflow with pressure on the front rather than wrapping all of your fingers around and throttling him. Try it, just - press gently." He looked up at Anakin over her shoulder. "This is just a taste test. Don't expect too much, will you? Now, be a good boy and stay still-"

Padmé carefully pressed down, fingers twitching either side of Anakin's jaw, and he gave a gasp, eyes fluttering closed and hips making an aborted thrusting movement towards her thigh. He rasped a quick breath, and she let go anxiously, gaze flicking from his face to that of the instructor, who was nodding reassuringly.

"That was fine, Padmé. I don't think you've hurt him. You okay, Anakin?"

"'M good," he slurred, looking spaced-out as he blinked at them both, and the instructor gestured for Padmé to take up the position again. He guided her into the right grip and addressed Anakin carefully.

"We're going to try properly this time. You need us to stop, tap three times. 'Go slow' is two taps. Any other rules I'm leaving up to Padmé."

She shoved a thigh between his on the cross, painfully aware of how damp her own panties were, and he groaned and ground his hips forward, bucking against her desperately. "Please. Please, Padmé-" he panted, and she acquiesced with gentle pressure and a careful, light squeeze that intensified as his hips shuddered and his eyelids fluttered. He continued to make weak little thrusts against her leg as his eyes rolled up into his head and he wheezed out an airless gasp, whole body trembling. She carefully threaded her other hand between them to massage the bulge in his jeans, amazed by the heat of it, rock-hard in her palm.

Anakin gave a weak cry and a whole-body shudder as he came, hips juddering uncontrollably against her palm. Padmé let go of his throat and he gave a huge, rattling inhale, sagging bonelessly against the cross, panting and twitching with bliss. She looked over her shoulder at the instructor and grinned, and he winked back.

"Good boy," they both praised, and Anakin gave her a sleepy, beatific smile, nuzzling his face against her cheek still purring out content little noises.  
  


* * *

  
All in all, it was Padmé and that visit he had to thank for - well, everything that happened afterwards. Good and bad. Good being that he learned a lot about himself by discovering that he got off on being tied up, spanked and choked; good in that it ultimately led him to the person he was sure was the love of his life, at the tender age of nineteen.

Bad in that he ended up losing her through it. She still wasn't comfortable choking him without supervision, and - as much as he hated to admit it - after that visit, he found it increasingly difficult to climax without it. Eventually she grew tired of him withdrawing in the middle of things and getting moody and upset, and she broke things off because 'we're not compatible like this, Anakin'. They remained good friends, however, and even occasionally reaped the benefits of a shared sexual history whenever one of them was going through a particularly dry spell (which happened far more to Anakin than to Padmé, it had to be said). He missed being her boyfriend occasionally, times like when she'd take him home for the holidays and he'd see her mother's face light up excitedly until Padmé explained, yet again, that no, they weren't back together. He hated to disappoint people.

They started university together in the autumn, Padmé in International Politics and Law, and Anakin in Engineering. It took all of about ten minutes for him to fall in love with his course...

And all of ten seconds for him to fall head over heels in love with his professor.

**Author's Note:**

> again, sorry if everyone is horribly ooc it's my first star wars fanfic ever sorry everybody
> 
> gentle reminder that my sense of humour is so shit that i wrote the whole scene of anakin getting beaten with the crop whilst listening to _whip it_ by nicki minaj. _hey, stranger over there, i really like the way you whip it whip it..._
> 
> [ **eta:** okay everyone, requests for inclusions (i.e. prompts) for upcoming stuff/anything you want to see in this 'verse can be posted [here at my tumblr inbox!](http://stxrwarss.tumblr.com/faq)]


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